DELIA. Oh, it is jolly seeing you again. I believe you were asleep.

BELINDA (with dignity). Certainly not, child. I was reading
"The Nineteenth Century"--(with an air)--and after. (Earnestly)
Darling, wasn't it next Thursday you were coming back?

DELIA. No, this Thursday, silly.

BELINDA (penitently). Oh, my darling, and I was going over to
Paris to bring you home.

DELIA. I half expected you.

BELINDA. So confusing their both being called Thursday. And you
were leaving school for the very last time. If you don't forgive
me, Delia, I shall cry.

DELIA (stroking her hand fondly). Silly mother!

(BELINDA sits down in a basket chair and DELIA sits on a table next
to her.)

BELINDA. Isn't it a lovely day for April, darling! I've wanted to
say that to somebody all day, and you're the first person who's
given me the chance. Oh, I said it to Betty, but she only said,
"Yes, ma'am."

DELIA. Poor mother!